Until
by Lilliane
Summary: AU. There's a ball at Redwall Abbey! Constance, Brother Alf, Tim, and Tess plot together, and the shy Matthias asks the humiliated Cornflower to dance...(oneshot with song "Until..." from Kate & Leopold)


Disclaimer: points at Brian Jacques There's the man…don't sue me, I don't own anything except the idea, Lavendar, Brandon, and Samuel…(and the song belongs to Sting)

Important note for nitpickers: First of all: as the summary says, this is AU, and don't write flames/horrible reviews just because you don't like AU; don't read AU if you hate it so much, because there are some people who like/don't mind it. Second of all: I have only read Redwall and Mossflower, which was the only reason this is Cornflower/Matthias instead of Rose/Martin. If this is still apparent, once again, don't write flames/horrible reviews about how _dare_ I write a fanfic involving a series I know next to nothing about; this site isn't for snobby professors, as is apparent by the Parody/Humor department. To all others, please forgive me; I've had bad experiences with reviewers from The Lord of the Rings fanfiction part of this site. A bit of a warning: some of the characters may be a bit OOC, and I apologize, but I won't change it, because I like it the way it is. (this _is _fanfiction) Let me also say that this isn't Shakespeare or Homer or any-other-great-author-you-can-think-of; if you can think of any part that needs improvement and what kind, please review and tell me, but don't give me a bunch of insults or yell at me, because then I won't listen to you at all. Regular print = Cornflower's POV; _Italics_ = Matthias's POV.

Title: _Until…_

Summary: AU; There's a ball at Redwall Abbey! Constance, Brother Alf, Tim, and Tess plot together, and the shy Matthias asks the humiliated Cornflower to dance…(song "Until…" from Kate & Leopold)

Characters: Cornflower, Matthias, Tim, Tess, Constance, Brother Alf, Abbot Mortimer

Rating: G

Cornflower wiped her forehead. _How is it that so many males can be so hungry, just because it is the Winter Solstice?_ she wondered. It was December 22nd, and, if it had not been for all the families inhabiting the great stone Abbey, the few remaining ladies, monks, fathers, etc. would've had to be turned out from the cold pervading the haven. Unfortunately, with many creatures to keep warm, so much the more to keep fed. Usually there wasn't such a ridiculous amount of dishes, but it was the feast celebrating the beginning of Winter and the New Year, after which there usually was a masquerade, which came to a close at midnight as each creature took off his or her masks to the astonishment of the others. However, it didn't seem that Cornflower would be able to go; it was her turn to clean the kitchen, which in and of itself was sure to take till midnight, not to mention she had nothing to wear, and couldn't dance the complicated jigs there was sure to be…

"Those 'males' are always hungry, no matter _what_ day it is…" Constance the badger said as she joined Cornflower in the kitchen.

Cornflower, realizing she had spoken aloud, blushed to her eyelids as Constance laughed. "Are you not going to be at the dance?" the, sometimes fiercely, motherly badger asked the young mousemaiden.

Cornflower shook her head resignatedly and gestured to the piles of plates, cups, platters, etc. "With all this work to do? I'd be surprised if I had enough time to get in for the last five minutes, plus I'd need to change, and I don't have a dress."

Tess, daughter of John Churchmouse, came skipping in. "Don't worry! Constance said she'd do the dishes, and I'll help you get dressed!"

Cornflower lifted an eyebrow skeptically. "With what dress, o bright and intelligent being?"

Tess merely giggled. "You have to say that you'll come first!"

Constance and Tess watched the maiden for her answer, but Cornflower looked over her shoulder at all the dishes to clean, plus anything that fell off the dishes and onto the floor would have to be swept and mopped. She felt guilty; asking Constance to do her work while she enjoyed the masquerade was not in her nature, and Constance had already cleaned the kitchen two nights ago. Cornflower was also sure that Constance would want to be there, dancing with some badger lord or another, instead of in this cramped, dirty, stone kitchen, hidden from almost all possible sight with the heaps of dishes just carried there barely five minutes from the freezing Great Hall, warmed by the presence of all the mice, badgers, moles, etc.

Cornflower sighed and stuttered, "I-I can't."

Constance and Tess groaned. "Why not?" Constance rumbled.

"Constance, you're my friend, and I can't leave you to clean the kitchen you cleaned two nights ago while I go off and enjoy myself!" Cornflower said, looking at the badger with wide eyes, incredulous that the lady hadn't already figured out the reasons. "And-"

The badger gently placed a paw over the young mouse's mouth. "You have been busy all month. You're always running from one side of the Abbey to the other, doing who-knows-what for who-cares-who. You're so obsessed with doing things for other people, lately you haven't taken even ½ of an hour for some time to yourself-"

"Not counting sleep," Cornflower added cryptically. She sighed again. "I see your point…but are you sure?"

"Of course!"

"You don't want to go to the masquerade?"

Constance rolled her eyes. "I hate bumbling fools making eyes at me, and even more having to dance with them."

Tess giggled. Cornflower beamed, then hugged her great friend, when, suddenly remembering something, she went as rigid as if ice-cold water had been suddenly dumped on her head. Her paws flew to her mouth as she said, "Oh, no!"

"What?" two voices of mouse and badger chimed together.

"Mom said she'd be checking up on me every now and then during the dance and after the unmasking! What am I going to do?" Cornflower said tragically as she wrung her paws.

The three friends thought a minute in silence, which was suddenly broken by Tess's quick clapping and high-pitched laughter. "I got it! Whenever her mom starts leaving, I'll tell her husband or some snotty noserag to ask her to dance, then, Cornflower, you can leave at fifteen minutes to midnight, change, and make it look like you were mopping the floor or something as she walks in!"

Cornflower hugged the little churchmouse, laughing as Constance roared with joy. "You're brilliant! Alright, I'll go!"

Had Cornflower been not so blinded by her glee, she would've noticed the significant glance that passed between Constance and Tess. "You go on ahead and wash up a bit, Cornflower," Tess said suddenly, keeping an eye on the badger, "and I'll join you in a minute to help you with your dress."

Cornflower smiled, then fairly twirled out of the room. The badger and the mouse waited to see if she would come back, then bent their heads together like two giggling young mousegirls.

"Good, we've got her!" Tess said, careful to keep her voice low and not burst out laughing at the joy in their "conspiracy". "What did Brother Alf say?"

"He said he'd take care of _him_, and that he's already got a costume that will fit _him_ perfectly!" said Constance, also feeling the utter joy, but, as a precaution in case someone was listening, did not mention the poor mouseling that was to be "taken care of" by Brother Alf. "What did Tim say?"

Tess giggled again. "He said he'd do anything to get _him_ with Cornflower; you know how lonely that poor mouseling gets sometimes, and _he_ needs a lady friend. He also said that, if worst comes to worst, he'll use 'the eyes', and we all know _he_ can't resist that!"

To the two of them's surprise, Constance giggled too. "Good! I talked to Cornflower's dad, and he said he'd talk to Cornflower's mom, convince her out of checking down here every half hour."

Tess clapped her hands. "I need to get the dress now; it's only fifteen minutes till the masquerade starts, and we wouldn't want her to miss a minute of it!"

_Matthias sighed tiredly as he walked to the stairs that led to his dormitory. Usually, feasts were events of great fun, things he looked forward to; this one seemed less lively, not to mention it seemed less people talked to him, and there was always a cold breeze at the back of his neck that permeated his habit gradually till it seemed next to frozen on him. He had to crack his back several times so it didn't feel so stiff, and the masquerade was bound to be worse, for, after all, who'd want to dance with a bumbling apprentice who tripped over his own sandals?_

_Brother Alf stepped down wearing a green traveling suit, a threadbare grey hooded cloak, the broken hilt of a sword hanging around his neck, and a golden mask covering everything from his forehead down to his nose and cheekbones. Matthias bowed satirically as he said, "Martin the Warrior," in a matching tone._

_Brother Alf bowed as well, though a little more respectfully. "What is wrong, young one? Was the feast not what you hoped? Don't worry, the dance will be infinitely better."_

_Matthias shook his head. " I do not wish to go."_

_Had the young mouseling seen the Brother without his mask, Matthias would've known that the look of surprise and cry of shock was all an act. "My young one, why ever not?"_

_Matthias shuddered. "It's just…so cold, and you know how I hate it. And, in all honesty, who'd want to dance with _me_?"_

_Brother Alf nodded to a group of twittering mousegirls, who looked over Matthias and began to chatter and giggle even more as he looked at them. "You might be surprised…" the Brother trailed off as a young mouseboy jogged up to the pair of them._

_"Hey, Matthias, my friend!" he cried in a jolly voice. "Are you going up to change?"_

_The young apprentice shook his head. Tim whined, "Matthias! How could you? You'll miss all the fun!"_

_Matthias sighed. "It's too cold for me, I've nothing to wear, I'd be bored enough to try even Abbot Mortimer's patience…_and_ I didn't get enough sleep last night."_

_Brother Alf barely kept in a derisive snort. "Don't lie to young ones and set a bad example; I heard you snoring hardly ten minutes after supper was over last night."_

_Matthias gave an embarrassed laugh. "Very well! But I still do not wish to go." A faraway look graced his features as he thought, _She'd surely laugh…__

_Tim jumped on his back, nearly causing the both of them to fall over. "Come on, Matthias! If no lady asks you to dance, we can talk, or spin around, or anything! Please???" Tim asked, looking over Matthias's shoulder with his eyes their widest, darkest, most innocent and pleading. _

_Matthias looked away with a groan. "No! No! No!" he said over and over, trying to resist the young child's power…_

_But in vain._

_"Alright!"Matthias burst out suddenly. Tim gave a whoop as the apprentice set him back on the floor. "But what am I going to wear?" Matthias said as he looked scornfully at his habit. _

_Brother Alf grinned. "I have just the thing!"_

_Matthias's heart began to beat wildly as he was led up the tall staircase. _Maybe…just maybe….

Tess led Cornflower up the stairs that led to the dormitories occupied by the families that were currently taking refuge there. They walked past door after door until they reached the Churchmouse's rooms. The young mousegirl turned to Cornflower and bade her shut her eyes as the doors were opened. Tess then led Cornflower by the hand until they reached the room shared by both Tess and her brother. The mouseling shut the door as she told Cornflower to open her eyes.

Cornflower gave a small gasp as she saw one of the most beautiful dresses in Redwall. It was an enchanting dark blue with small white gems sewn in, like so many stars; the sleeves were puffed a little bit around the shoulders, then were tied with silver cord, the rest of the long sleeves falling to about knee length. The dress had a V-neck, and another silver cord tied around the waist in the front, with the long ends falling to the floor, as did the skirt.

"Where did you get it?" Cornflower asked as she walked around it, drinking in every detail, every seam with awe. "Constance paid for the materials, and my mom sewed it," Tess said joyfully. Cornflower stopped, then looked at Tess.

"I can't wear that."

Tess's mouth fell open. "Why not? Because it's too fancy?" She scoffed. "You'll look great! Just you wait; all the guys will be lined up to dance with you!"

Cornflower sighed, then consented to Tess helping her get the dress on. After pausing to see how Cornflower looked, Tess produced a dark blue mask embroidered with dark blue beads, white gems, and silver thread, and dark blue feathers coming up from behind the top, so as to hide the wearer's forehead. Cornflower had not looked in the mirror for hours, but would not look until she was finished to give the final judgement of herself.

"Tada!" Tess said after the mask was secured. Cornflower scrunched her eyelids tight as Tess led her to a mirror.

"Martin's sword!" Cornflower said in shock at her reflection as Tess tumbled around the floor in laughter. "I…I look…"

"Like a real lady!" Tess cried out from on top of her bed. "Give me a few minutes to get ready, then let's go!"

_Matthias had _not_ had a great time, as his friends said he would. Any dance more complicated than a simple waltz made him trip at least three times, if no other greater incident happened. Then there was his partners: he found that most of the girls who came had no more sense than the sparrows up on the roof of the Abbey. Of course, he didn't think that his outfit (black trousers, black waistcoat with a white shirt underneath, a sweeping black cape, which made him look taller, with red on the underside and a plain white mask, which was a bit pointed on the top end sides, covering the areas around his eyes) intimidated the girls so much there was more than sense missing in their empty heads as they gabbled endlessly to him. He bore it with an outer calmness and silence, but on the inside he was wishing he was out in the cold snow naked instead of in the ballroom on the dance floor._

__

Cornflower swallowed nervously as she and Tess, dressed as a dryad, entered the ballroom. Many faces jumped out at her, each wearing different masks and dressed as different things, all jumbled into one room and creating a kaleidoscope of colors that spun on and on.

Both of the girls met many different guys, all different; some were shy and tripped while dancing, others were puffed with pride, a few were just nice and easy, and they were the best to dance with, because they didn't care if you mixed up a few dance moves on accident. None of them made a lasting impression on Cornflower, though; she remembered each mouse while they were dancing, but, as soon as a new partner asked for her, or two minutes after sitting down to rest, she hardly remembered him.

Now, as it would chance, it was thirty minutes to midnight. The dance was still going on wonderfully, but some gentlecreatures were beginning to feel a little cross inside, from sore feet, hot temperatures or what have you. As Cornflower sat down to rest a bit, a gaggle of vain mousegirls walked by. One of them, evidently their leader, was the crossest in the room, and, glancing at Cornflower, did a double-take.

"Well, if it isn't our friend Cornflower, the scullery maid!" Lavendar said sarcastically, leading the group to surround the poor mousegirl. "Shouldn't you be scrubbing the dishes, and keeping your dirty paws from the gentlemice here? Trying to get a rich mouse, aren't you?" she hissed suddenly. "Oh yes, I see you blush. You're trying to land with some money so you can be better off than your parents! No gentility," she explained to her air-headed followers. "Well, you'll be disappointed," she said, turning back to Cornflower, "because no mouse in his right mind would take to you!"

"Lavendar," Cornflower said lowly as she stood, for she did not want to attract attention, "I may not be afraid to work honestly for my money, but at least _I_ don't flaunt my fortune in the faces of others to attract men that will only love me for my money and _never_ for myself! And, the fact remains, that Samuel loved _me_, not you, and we all know why!"

There was a collective drawing of breath followed by a taut silence in that corner of the room. "That may be so, Miss Fine Airs," Lavendar threw back, hissing again, "but _the fact remains_ that you will be good for nothing _but_ cleaning dishes, and _no _mouse will love you for that, not even that bumbling boy Matthias!"

With her unusually (even for a mouse) long, pointed nose in the air, Lavendar and her girls, like geese, left to go flirt with some son of a rich lord or other.

Cornflower sat back down slowly. The face, which had been a scarlet red a second ago, began to turn pale under the fur. Her vision began to blur, but she swallowed hard. _No! I will_ not_ cry because a bunch of worthless girls tried to make themselves feel better through my misery! Just because they said – No! I will not think of it!_ Despite her heroic efforts, one rebellious tear escaped her dark eyes, slipped under her mask, and dripped off her cheek onto her lap. Cornflower clenched her jaw, willing the tears to dry, and they did, eventually. She watched Lavendar and her gang like a hawk, her mouth a straight, unfeeling line, her small paws clasped tightly in her lap, her skin underneath her fur white as ever, and her eyes even darker than they usually were, with storms brewing on the horizon.

_Matthias sighed long-sufferingly after a dance with Miss Lavendar herself. She was not as air-headed as the others, but she chattered on and on about how much money she had, who her parents were related to, etc. and that had been more hard to bear compared with the other nonsensical things he'd heard that night. The whole time he wished he could just leave her on the dance floor and hide behind Abbot Mortimer, but that would've been neither brave nor gentlemousely, so he let her chatter ceaselessly as they twirled, switched partners, skipped, and so on. It was a relief for him to say "Good night" as he joined Brother Alf and Abbot Mortimer by the bowls of fruit punch and elderberry wine. _

_"You said I was going to have a good time," he said darkly to "Martin the Warrior" as he filled a cup with punch. _

_"Have you not?"_

_"Indeed no! What frivolous things girls talk about! It'll be a wonder if _anyone_ gets married this new year," said Matthias as he sipped the cold refreshment, glancing from couple to group that stood on and off the dance floor. _

_Brother Alf sighed. "Have you danced with all the ladies?"_

_Matthias groaned. "It feels like it…"_

_The Brother scanned the room. He had not seen Matthias dance with _her_ yet…_

_"Have you danced with her?"asked Brother Alf as he pointed to a young mousegirl sitting in the corner, dressed like the Queen of the Night herself, but with a contemptuous look better served for Winter._

_Matthias looked at her closely. Her dress was in an old style, made with new fabric and sewn with precious gems, as was her mask. She held herself with poise and grace, but the look in her eyes frightened him as they followed a mindless group of mousettes and regarded them frostily._

_"No, and I won't," he burst out._

_"Why?" cut in Abbot Mortimer. "She is young, pretty, and carries herself like a real lady!"_

_Matthias looked at them wildly, then at her, as if he was being trapped. "L-look at her! See how she looks at those girls…like she wishes they were dead or something! I would hate it if she felt the same for me!"_

_The elder mice looked at the young one. "Goodness, Matthias! You've never met her, and already you care about what she thinks of you!" Brother Alf said, trying not to laugh at Matthias's bewildered expression. "Go on, young one!" Abbot Mortimer added. "It's better to find out at once instead of always guessing; and if she doesn't want to dance with you, she'll say so and that'll be the end of that!"_

_Matthias hesitated, then slowly walked over by her side. _

_"Excuse me, madam," he squeaked. She did not seem to hear him, for she barely moved._

_Matthias looked back at the Brother and the Abbot, who gestured wildly with their paws and mouthed "Go on!" fiercely._

_Matthias cleared his throat and tried to make his voice sound a little deeper._

_"Excuse me, madam."_

_The mousegirl started, then looked up with wide eyes. They were the darkest eyes Matthias had ever seen, so brown they were almost black. He extended his paw, cushioned by a white glove, made from the most delicate cobwebs._

She looks like _her_…

_"Shall we dance?"_

__

Cornflower had been sitting in the same chair for ten minutes after the "incident" with Lavendar, broodingly watching her and her gaggle torment mouse after mouse while fancying themselves the life of the masquerade. _Ha,_ she thought darkly, _if any mouse ever gave her a hint of what he thought of her, she'd leave at once like a ruffled hen and never return to the Abbey!_

"Excuse me, madam," a voice interrupted her thoughts. She turned to the direction of the sound and was met with a light pair of eyes, eyes which reminded her of the trees that sheltered her home.

A paw was held out. "Shall we dance?" the gentlemouse asked. She glanced at it first, then at him; as in a dream, she slowly gave him her bare, unprotected paw. Cornflower slowly stood up, then followed him to the center of the floor.

A guitar was quietly picked in the background as Brandon, the tenor in the Abbey's choir, began to sing.

_'If I caught the world in a bottle  
And everything was still beneath the moon  
Without your love would it shine for me?'_

Cornflower swallowed audibly as he placed his right paw on her delicate waist and his left in her right. He must have heard her, for, as they began to spin slowly, he whispered in her ear, "Don't worry; you're safe with me."

And, somehow, she trusted him.

_'If I was smart as Aristotle  
And understood the rings around the moon  
What would it all matter if you loved me?'_

_Matthias didn't know what it was that made him act so…un-Matthias-like around her, yet, somehow, he didn't feel like Brother Alf's bumbling apprentice, but like a suave, mature gentlemouse. He felt like he could say anything, do anything, and she would like it, because he was him, and wasn't pretending to be somebody else. As for what he thought of her, his esteem was already sky-high because she wasn't gabbling about who was wearing what, not to mention that she was great at waltzing.  
  
_

__

___  
'Here in your arms where the world is impossibly still  
With a million dreams to fulfill  
And a matter of moments until the dancing ends'  
_

After overcoming the nervousness Cornflower felt at the beginning of the song, she noticed how comfortably they seemed to fit together, like matching pieces of a puzzle. The skirt of her dress spun out behind her as they twirled, and his cape billowed about the two of them, and she faintly wondered how the two of them looked as they danced.

Wishing to start a conversation with the mouse she seemed to feel so at ease with, she started with the simple question, "How have you been, monsieur?"

_'Here in your arms when everything seems to be clear  
Not a solitary thing would I fear  
Except when this moment comes near the dancing's end'  
  
_

_"Monsieur" was taken off guard by the sudden question, but managed with the unpardonable answer of "Excruciatingly well, madam."_

_She seemed at a loss as to whether laugh or look perplexed, and did both. Matthias joined in after a moment. "Please, I beg your pardon; I do not usually answer so rudely!"_

_"No," she said, "I wish to know your reason for being so painfully well, and whether I can make amends for it."_

_He looked at her. Did she mean…?_

__

___  
'If I caught the world in an hourglass  
Saddled up the moon so we could ride  
Until the stars grew dim, _

_Until...'  
  
_

Matthias and Cornflower did not know it, but they were receiving more attention than they knew of. Old couples watched with sentimental eyes, remembering their romances, while young mousemen watched Matthias and wondered where he had come from, as mousegirls watched either in jealousy or in wonder (or both) as they speculated as to how that mouse in blue got him to actually talk, not to mention laugh. Lavendar, of course, was furious, for she had hardly a peep from the mouseling when they danced, and to think that the "scullery maid" would dare to dance with such a gentlemouse as him! But she was being watched by another mouseling, and she went off to flirt and chatter with him, otherwise she would've stirred up some mischief or other…

_  
'One day you'll meet a stranger   
And all the noise is silenced in the room  
You'll feel that you're close to some mystery'_

"I'm afraid that the girls that I've danced with have been…let's just say we've had less-then-savory conversations," continued the gentlemouse as he spun her around.

"Yes, I've had such conversations with some of the gentlemice here too," Cornflower said, throwing a small glance over her shoulder. "And with a few other mice as well…" she added darkly to herself.

She looked in his eyes, and saw a peculiar light in there, like…like he actually cared.

Did she dare hope?

_'In the moonlight and everything shatters  
You feel as if you've known her all your life  
The world's oldest lesson in history'_

_As they danced, Matthias and the mousemaiden talked of many things: the air-headedness of their generation being one, the cruel winter storms, her wish to be the Abbey's historian and storywriter, and Matthias's desire to be a warrior monk numbered among the subjects. They talked like old friends, yet the both felt a tie of something closer…_

_As they were discussing the festivities of the next day, the girl looked over her shoulder at the clock. Her eyes grew round as she apologized profusely, saying that she had to leave early._

_Matthias felt a sudden, cold desolation in his heart. "Will you not stay for the unmasking?" he asked, wishing to see the face of the beauty he held in his arms._

__

___  
'Here in your arms where the world is impossibly still  
With a million dreams to fulfill  
And a matter of moments until the dancing ends'_

Cornflower's heart seemed to shred itself into pieces as she looked at his face, hidden by the white mask. How she hated to leave!

She shook her head regretfully. "I must leave; I have important business to attend to, and it cannot wait."

Cornflower slowly took her hand off his shoulder and began to walk away from him.

_'Here in your arms when everything seems to be clear  
Not a solitary thing do I fear'  
_

_Matthias could not let go of her paw. She turned and watched him, trying to figure out what he was doing._

_Hardly aware of what he was doing himself, Matthias walked up to her until they stood almost nose to nose. _

_"Sweet…would you not tell me your name?"  
_

__

_'Except when this moment comes near the dancing's end'_

Cornflower was frozen in time, lost in his light eyes. What answer could she give?

"I would not," she barely breathed, as she turned and fled.

__

___  
'Oh, if I caught the world in an hourglass  
Saddled up the moon and we would ride'_

Cornflower walked the corridors with Tess and Constance as they buried her with questions about the night before.

"What was he like?" Tess asked of the gentlemouse in the dark cape.

"He was…so full of mystery, and yet not so. I could not see who he was, or guess at all, yet we talked about everything like friends. He made me tremble a bit," Cornflower admitted, blushing, as Tess giggled and Constance laughed, "but I felt…so secure in his strong arms," she finished, her eyes far away.

_'Until the stars grew dim,  
Until the time that time stands still,'_

_"That was all she said?" Brother Alf asked incredulously as he, Matthias, Abbot Mortimer, and Tim walked to the Great Hall for breakfast. " 'I would not'?" The Brother rolled his eyes. Matthias and Cornflower were _so _close!_

_"So you have no idea who she is?" the Abbot asked. Matthias shook his head sadly. "But, if I _do_ see her again, I'll know it's her; she may not know it's me, but I'll know her, and when I do…"_

__

The question Constance had been dying to ask since last night was heard after an opportunity presented itself. "Did he tell you what his name was?"

Cornflower looked at the floor sadly, then looked back up.

"No, he never told me his name…" she said, as, in glancing, the dark eyes of the "scullery maid" met with the light eyes of the "bumbling apprentice who tripped over his own sandals".

__

_'Until...'_

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